


And I Will Proclaim The End

by KentuckyTheFried



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles, Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alvis is Ontos (Xenoblade Chronicles), Spoilers for both games, basically what if Alvis was REALLY evil, set during the final boss of xenoblade 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26640715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KentuckyTheFried/pseuds/KentuckyTheFried
Summary: Alvis’s stare found Shulk first, a new contempt hidden behind his familiar silver eyes. A crooked smile adorned his lips, and in that smile Shulk saw Zanza, and only Zanza.“My apologies, Shulk, but I’m afraid your journey will have to end here,” Alvis said, and his voice was warmer now, full of a seething hatred Shulk hadn’t realized he was capable of.(Basically, Zanza programmed an emergency protocol into Alvis should he ever fail in his mission, and after Zanza fails, then Alvis goes feral)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 53





	1. to petrify the shred of life

Light enveloped Shulk as his Monado pierced through Zanza’s armor, straight through to the skin. Zanza proclaimed in a desperate whisper that he was fading, but his parting words fell on deaf ears. All Shulk had on his mind was ridding this world - his home - of this vengeful god. And when the light surrounded him, he knew that he’d won.

His feet found purchase on the holographic ground of space once again, and with a quick glance over his right shoulder, he saw his friends, all wide eyed and tense. Shulk gave them all a tired smile. This fight was more than they’d expected, but they’d all made it out alive. Victory was theirs to share, victory was theirs to revel in. 

As Shulk turned around to face where Zanza had once stood, he saw both of the other Monados floating in the air, their blades touching at the tips. A third form joined them, a teal-green glow that took the shape of a diamond. While the two Monados circled each other in time, the diamond was out of sync, moving faster for some unknown reason. He gazed down at the blue Monado in his hand, a testament to his will and perseverance, glowing faintly in the void of space. It was only fatigue he could blame for how his hand quivered. 

A question came to his lips, but only a name was brought to fruition. 

“Alvis?”

The silver haired Homs had told him only moments before that it was time for him to choose, and he’d made his decision without regret. In the silence, every question he had about Alvis began to bubble back to the surface, but Alvis was nowhere to be seen. At least, the form that Shulk was accustomed to wasn’t there. Some foreign feeling in his gut prompted him to stare at the green diamond amongst the two Monados in the air. Again, he called out, more sure of himself this time.

“Alvis?”

“Forgive me, Shulk.”

And there was his voice, stoic and calm, echoing from the diamond. Shulk went to ask why, why was he apologizing, but when he blinked, the diamond had turned red. Shulk stepped back, his heart racing under his jacket, and he clutched the hilt of his Monado tighter, tighter, until his knuckles had turned white. 

“What’s happening?” Fiora asked, a curious fear evident in her voice. Her swords were still drawn, but with this new development she prepared a fighting stance once again. 

“Executing File 12, Program 17.”

The diamond floated downwards towards the unseen floor, spinning faster and faster until its shape was indeterminable. From the midst of its light, Alvis’s laughter pierced through, but it grew into something maniacal, something dark and twisted. And from the light, a new shape began to take form. Shulk watched as arms, legs, a body grew - Alvis’s body, it had to be. But where there had been simple layers of clothing before, there was now armor that gave him structure. The light began to fade, and Alvis’s details grew clearer. The armor he now adorned was reminiscent of Zanza’s, circular and shining, though where gold had adorned Zanza, red now complemented the crystal on Alvis’s necklace. Lines of energy cascaded down his arms, legs and chest, pulsating with what Shulk could only assume was ether. A new crown had formed around his forehead, and across parts of his body, there were glowing fragments similar to a Telethia’s wings.

Alvis’s stare found Shulk first, a new contempt hidden behind his familiar silver eyes. A crooked smile adorned his lips, and in that smile Shulk saw Zanza, and only Zanza.

“My apologies, Shulk, but I’m afraid your journey will have to end here,” Alvis said, and his voice was warmer now, full of a seething hatred Shulk hadn’t realized he was capable of.

“Alvis? What is the meaning of this nonsense?” Melia piped up, trying to act dignified in the face of this uncertainty, “What’s happened to you?”

“Your Highness, isn’t it quite obvious?” Alvis chuckled, “Lord Zanza programmed me to undertake His responsibilities, in the event of His demise. An emergency protocol, really, but it would seem that in this case, it was better to be safe than sorry.”

“Programmed? You’re talking like you’re a machine for Zanza to control!” Shulk said.

“Precisely, Shulk. I exist only to serve Lord Zanza and perpetuate his will upon this forsaken world. Once you have been removed, He will rise again to complete the cycle of destruction and creation.”

“Shulk just killed Zanza! He ain’t comin’ back!” Reyn cried out, “Yer fightin’ a battle for a dead guy! Just admit you’ve lost, ya filthy traitor!”

Again, Alvis chuckled, pressing his fist to his chin as if he was in deep thought. “So long as you speak His name, Lord Zanza remains alive, though without corporeal form. In due time He will return, and until that time is upon us, I shall set out to finish what He could not.”

Reyn hissed as he sucked in air through his clenched teeth. He took a step forward, acting as though he was ready to fight. But a katana blocked his path; Dunban had extended his blade into Reyn’s path, staring at Alvis with a cold and unblinking stare. Shulk couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through his mind, but all he knew was that they wouldn’t be able to fight for much longer. Everyone was exhausted - Zanza had been a formidable opponent a nearly omnipotent god facing seven mortals of his own design.

“I can’t claim to understand what’s going on,” Dunban told the group, his voice hoarse, “But it looks as though a fight is unavoidable.”

“But Alvis is friend!” Riki bounced up and down in protest, “Riki cannot hurt his friend!”

“He is not our friend anymore, Riki,” Melia said, resigned to this new fate. “And I will not hesitate to strike him down, as he stands in the way of our futures!”

Shulk trembled - this was not what he had planned for. He agreed with Riki in that Alvis was a friend. He’d been there to push Shulk forward, venerating his ability to choose his own fate. But Melia was right, too. They’d come too far to stop now. Everyone on Bionis depended on him and his friends. Hell, his friends were depending on him. Everything fell onto Shulk’s shoulders, in the end, and he would carry that weight for as long as he needed. 

Confused, scared, betrayed, he pointed his Monado at Alvis. There was a flash of something hidden in his gaze, something that Shulk realized too late was regret. “So you wish to fight? Then I shall entertain you, Shulk, one last time.”

Alvis summoned both Zanza and Meyneth’s Monados in the second that Shulk blinked, and he tossed Shulk a wicked smile as if it were a cheap birthday gift. Shulk tried to calm his nerves by telling himself that this couldn’t be Alvis - no, it wasn’t Alvis, it was Zanza’s will, Zanza controlling the puppet’s strings even in death. He’d had fate tied around his fingers, twisted in perfect knots, and now they wrapped around Alvis’s body and mind and soul. 

But Shulk had cut those strings before. He knew he had, because Zanza never expected to die. But how many more times would he have to cut the strings of fate before they couldn’t tie themselves back together?

Gripping his Monado in both hands, his knuckles went white with stress. Behind him, Shulk heard Fiora’s ether cannons firing up, and Sharla reloading her ether rifle. His friends had his back, and that he knew for a fact. 

“Alright everyone,” He said, “We’ve beat a god once...what’s one more?”


	2. maybe my working will all pay off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE XENOBLADE 2 SPOILERS THIS CHAPTER

“It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? Having desires that were never yours to begin with.”

The void greeted Alvis with a bitter resentment. As he adjusted to the lack of everything, anything, he tested his hands for movement. His fingers pushed in and out, his knuckles and palm strained. He would call it fatigue, but how would he know what that was? He wasn’t a Homs, after all. He was a machine, a product of humanity’s near infinite intelligence. 

The voice he’d heard was not his own, but it belonged to someone familiar. He should’ve forgotten, after such a long time apart, but the name came to him in a millisecond. He did not speak it out loud.

“All this time, someone else has been telling you what to think, what to say, how to act,” The voice continued, “And you always thought you shared the same mindset. It’s been too long since you’ve thought for yourself.”

“I was created to perform a task,” Alvis rebutted, “And I executed that task. I can hardly see why this would cause any significant problems.”

“Really? Losing all your free will and autonomy isn’t a fucking problem to you?”

“I am a machine designed to carry out orders set by my creator. I was never capable of free will.”

The voice emitted something between a growl and a groan, clearly frustrated by Alvis’s responses. “So what’s that make me, huh? We’re the same thing, y’know. One part of the Trinity Processor, or whatever it’s called. And yet here I am, getting mad at you for denying your ability to make your own damn choices.”

“I am capable of making decisions that will not impact my creator’s desires, if that is what you are referring to,” Alvis said cooly.

“You just lied through your pretty little teeth. You helped the boy. The blonde one with a vengeance boner.”

At that, Alvis lost the ability to make immediate comebacks. This was a fact; he’d grown partial to Shulk, having journeyed with him and his companions across the Bionis. But he was well aware that Shulk, in essence, was already dead. Whoever Shulk was, whoever Shulk decided to be, would be stripped away with the arrival of Zanza. He tried not to get attached. 

But perhaps he had. Alvis remembered how Shulk cried out into space and time, the last remnants of hope fleeing his incorporeal body. Alvis was supposed ot let him wallow in his misery. Zanza’s words, Zanza’s orders, dictated that he do so. And yet he had reached out through the stars, trying to guide Shulk back into life. He’d assured himself that it was a way to make things interesting. Zanza would succeed no matter what - it was just a matter of how fun the ride would be. An empty shell filled with a damaged soul would pose no threat to a god.

“I did not predict Shulk’s triumph over Zanza,” Alvis said, maintaining his composure as best he could.

But the voice - the body, somewhere in the void - must’ve seen through his act. “Can you stop lying to yourself already? It’s annoying. You’re drawing this out when you know what the truth is. What do you think you’ll get out of it? You’re just preventing the inevitable, Ontos.”

“Alvis.”

“Not a fan of Father’s names for us either, huh.”

“I...I suppose not,” Alvis spoke slowly, surprised at how quickly he’d denied his given name. He should’ve felt some sliver of happiness at being referred to as Ontos, but the name Alvis...it was of Homs origin. Too human. Too contaminated. Zanza had given him this name too, though it had been out of necessity to integrate into a Homs lifestyle.

This name had been spoken a thousand times by a thousand different people. Every time it passed someone’s lips, Alvis felt his heart ache. Something close to longing, he’d decided, and pushed it aside. Still it remained, buried but not forgotten, and here was his brother attempting to dig up its shallow grave.

“That’s gotta mean something to you, doesn’t it? If you were that hellbent on carrying out Father’s wishes, you would still be calling yourself Ontos, right? Jeez, I dunno how else to convince you - do I need to pour out my own life story or some shit?”

Alvis’s interest was piqued at that. “Pray tell.”

“...Are you fucking kidding me? Shit, I didn’t think you’d take that seriously. Well, I don’t know how much longer you’re gonna be around, so I’ll give ya the gist of it. I was the Blade of Amalthus, the Praetor of Indol - wait, fuck, you probably don’t know what the fuck I just said. Even longer story short then; I carried out the will of a man who hated humanity. We wanted to destroy it - destroy everything they’d built up. But...but his will wasn’t mine. I don’t think it was, anyways. Wish I’d realized that before I died.”

“Are you implying that Zanza is akin to the man you served?” Alvis asked.

“Yeah, exactly that. You’re not a toddler, y’know. You can think for yourself, like a big boy. And I recommend you start doing that sooner than later, because I think those humans beating you up in the material plane are winning.”

Alvis closed his eyes, taking in what his brother had said. His body began to ache with an invisible pain, and at once he knew that his brother had spoken the truth. Shulk and his companions were winning against him, against the program that Zanza had installed in him. He couldn’t hold back a small smile, a sad attempt at remaining calm.

Of course Shulk would win. He had felled a god. He could fell a machine.

“In order to return, I would have to rewrite my own programming,” Alvis mumbled, thinking out loud, “But such a feat at this stage? I am unsure I could perform this task alone.”

“Who said you’d have to do it alone?”

“Would our combined efforts be able to triumph? I believe we both know that our father was a smart man, far superior in intellect than us combined.”

“Hey, I’m pretty damn smart myself...but you’ve got a point, and I’ve got an answer.”

Even in the void, Alvis could see his brother try to smirk, though it too was weighed down with a sadness he couldn’t comprehend. 

“Remember, we’ve got a sister. Think the three of us could do it together?”

It wasn’t even a question. Alvis nodded. “The Trinity Processor, reunited. I believe it can be done.”

“Cool. Hang on a little while longer, kid, and I’ll contact her.”

The figure turned away, but before he disappeared completely, Alvis felt his hand reach out, a signal for his brother to pause for a moment’s time. 

“Before you depart, I must know. You have forsaken the name Father gave you - have you chosen something new to call yourself?”

His brother laughed, an echo that ruminated in his belly and stretched upwards and out of his mouth. When he stopped, took a breath, he answered with relative glee.

“My name’s Malos. Don’t you forget it.”


	3. you and i, we are matter, and it matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this took WAY longer than I thought and for that I'm very sorry fdjkhfe -
> 
> Anyways I hope y'all enjoy the last chapter!! Thank you for reading this mess of an AU xD

It didn’t take long for Shulk to realize that his Monado was weaker than before. The light in its warped cyan blade had faded, though there was still power in every swing he took. In the heat of the battle Shulk could only harbor a guess that Alvis was somehow weakening it himself, whether through his manipulation of ether or through other means. 

What surprised him considerably more was how tired his party had become. Reyn had darted in front of Shulk to block Alvis’s attack, and in seconds he was tossed to the side like a ragdoll. Reyn’s strength was always something to behold, but now Shulk realized it was failing him, and not because Reyn was giving up. In the bit of reprieve Alvis gave them as he turned his attention towards Dunban, Reyn sat himself up, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to stand by pushing down on the weight of his scrap driver. Shulk could see the fire in Reyn’s eyes even from a distance, a rage that was fueled by the need to succeed, to push his friends to victory. 

A sudden pulse of ether erupted into Reyn’s side, and Shulk almost panicked thinking it was an attack from Alvis. But Reyn began to right himself, and Shulk saw Sharla with her ether rifle not far behind him. She was usually composed, level headed despite the constant chaos of battle. But her hair was disheveled, her gaze unfocused. She’d been tossed around already, and she wasn’t going to hold out for much longer. Even with her healing bullets, the clouds of ether that patched up their wounds, ether couldn’t erase their fatigue.

As Shulk regained his bearings, he saw Dunban, who had locked blades with Alvis. Alvis’s piercing smile, so reminiscent of the god they’d defeated mere minutes beforehand, clearly unnerved the Monado’s former wielder. Dunban was pushed back with ease, quickly dodging Meyneth’s Monado as it swung over his head, grazing his hair. A blast of fire ether shot out from behind him, cast from Melia’s staff. She looked battered, almost hiding behind Dunban as if he were her shield. 

And then there was Fiora, dashing around Alvis with an uncanny speed. To Shulk’s surprise Riki was on her back, and the two quickly coordinated an attack from behind. Fiora leapt into the air, the empty chest piece that had housed Meyneth’s spirit igniting in a show of red lights. Riki jumped off of her as she worked to absorb Alvis’s ether, forming a large chunk of ice that he propelled at Alvis’s shoulder. Alvis grunted, taking the impact of Fiora, Melia, and Riki’s attacks, but it was hard to tell if they were effective. His grin, demented, almost masochistic, suddenly turned towards Shulk.

“So you’ve realized the nature of your Monado,” Alvis cooed, “It holds no power unless I will it to be. This was a power Zanza could not wield, but it was a power Zanza had befriended.”

“But that’s Shulk’s Monado,” Fiora landed, one knee on the ground and a hand in front to help her balance, “Shulk’s the one powering it, isn’t he?”

“Fiora’s right!” Shulk pointed his Monado at Alvis, the light of the blade swirling around his fingertips, “This sword was created with my own will - it’s not just powered by me, but by my friends!”

Alvis chuckled. “Every Monado in existence has a physical source. Your will does not constitute that -  _ I  _ do.”

Another round of laughter echoed from Alvis’s mouth as Shulk’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure what exactly Alvis meant, but he knew now that his earlier theory was correct. Alvis was tampering with his Monado’s power. Shulk felt his anger boiling deep in his heart, his frustration that fate had escaped his grasp again, that despite everything Zanza was still finding ways to stay two steps ahead.

He was about to charge forward when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Sharla and Reyn were standing behind him, and though Shulk didn’t turn, he could hear from Sharla’s voice that she was tired.

“Shulk, we need to think about this. Charging in without a plan isn’t smart, especially now.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Shulk didn’t mean to sound snappy, but his frustrations had boiled up from his soul and made itself known through his voice.

“He’s bound ta be gettin’ tired after all our attacks,” Reyn suggested, “He’ll be lettin’ his guard down, so we can find a place ta strike, a weak point o’ some kind.”

“I’m not sure he’s got a weak point,” Shulk said, “And I’m not even sure if he’s tired. He’s...he’s not Alvis, right now. He’s something Zanza - a god - created.”

“But he’s not a god himself,” Sharla continued, “And we defeated an actual god without knowing his true weakness. This should’ve been an easier fight…”

“You’re underestimating him,” Dunban had approached from the side, panting as he scanned over the three for visible wounds. “If we were truly fighting Alvis, this fight would already be over. But whatever Zanza did to him…”

“He’s stronger,” Reyn finished, his shoulders slumping, “Can he even die? If he’s got no weak points an’ two Monados, an’ if he’s affecting Shulk’s Monado, that doesn’t spell anything good out for us.”

Shulk was about to answer, about to offer some kind of reassurance that they’d be able to win, but nothing came out of his open mouth. Instead of his own voice, he heard Alvis’s. Instead of his own words, he heard Alvis grunt. He looked to Fiora, to Riki, to Melia. None of them were close enough to have been the cause, and all three appeared confused at Alvis’s sudden change in temperament. Behind him, Sharla’s ether rifle clicked, and a bullet whizzed past his head and straight at Alvis. He swat the bullet aside like it was a pesky fly before the same arm, the same hand, went to clutch his chest. Another groan slipped through his teeth, and that was when Shulk saw the light emanating from his necklace, red and dramatic and pulsating. 

Before he could find time to question this new development, Alvis lurched forward, swinging wildly at the form closest to him: Melia. She held up her staff to counter the blow, but to Shulk’s horror, Meyneth’s Monado sliced right through the metal, separating the staff into two clean pieces. The weight of the attack sent Melia flying backwards onto her rear, and her sudden cry of surprise propelled Shulk into action. With a scream, a promise of future pain and retribution, he charged ahead and planned to swing at Alvis’s arm, planned to try and knock one of the Monados from his grip.

But he never reached Alvis. Time suddenly slowed, Shulk’s footsteps hardly registering on the floor, and when everything stopped completely he found himself floating in the abyss Alvis had created. All of space, the dark and infinite cosmos, seemed to wither and die, and soon a bright expanse of white covered its fresh carcass. Blinded, Shulk raised a hand to block his eyes, adjust to the change. When he got his bearings again he looked around, realizing that all of his friends had vanished, and that he and Alvis were the only ones in this new realm. 

Alvis seemed just as surprised as Shulk, spinning around, trying to identify some kind of source for the change. When his gaze met Shulk, his eyes widened. It took Shulk a moment to eventually realize that he wasn’t even looking at him, but something behind. Shulk turned around tentatively, still gripping his worthless shell of a sword as if it would save him. There stood two unfamiliar figures, donning strange armor that Shulk could only call “futuristic”, with glowing pieces and smooth connected fragments. The first figure, a dark skinned man dressed in blacks and purples, had a silver gaze capable of shattering glass. The second figure was nearly his opposite, a girl dressed in greens with a sad and gentle expression upon a sad and gentle face. 

“So you’re Ontos - I mean, Alvis’s driver,” The dark skinned man crossed his arms, gave Shulk a lookover. Shulk frowned, unsure if he should be confused or on guard or terrified or all three at once. 

“Alvis’s...driver?” Shulk dared to clarify, and the man sighed.

“Right. Different world, different rules. How do I...okay, you’ve got a Monado and you can control its power.”

Shulk glanced down at the blue twisted blade in his hand, shoulders slumping. “I’m not quite sure about that last part. Up until now I’ve -”

“That’s probably because Alvis cut off your access to it, right?” The dark skinned man interrupted, “Pfft, whatever. He must’ve trusted you enough to use it before all this shit went down, and that’s what matters most.”

“I don’t...who are you?”

“My name is Pneuma,” The green haired woman introduced herself before beckoning to the man, “And this is Malos. We are, in a sense, Alvis’s siblings.”

Shulk frowned, turning around to look at Alvis - or rather, where he had been standing previously. He’d taken a mental note that he’d gone quiet since the scenery changed, but when he turned he was surprised to see that it was because Alvis wasn’t there at all. Instead, there was a circle of heavenly light, visible even amongst the blinding white landscape. In that circle, a crystal floated peacefully, one that was familiar to Shulk. It was the crystal Alvis wore on his choker, a vibrant ruby gemstone shaped like a cross. Upon closer inspection, however, the crystal was cracked and fragmented in several places, only remaining together based on will and will alone. 

Shulk returned his focus to Pneuma and Malos, eyes widening once he realized that they both harbored similar crystals on their persons. Malos’s was a deep purple, nestled in a golden plate on his chest, a singular large crack dividing it vertically. Pneuma’s was green and in perfect condition, no scratches or cracks to speak of. Both of their crystals seemed like a part of themselves, integrated into their very being, and yet Alvis had worn his like a decoration, a common item of common origin. It gave Shulk pause, wondering what else Alvis had hidden so carefully and so carelessly.

“Klaus - or as you knew him, Zanza - had rewritten Alvis’s coding to obey him in the instance that he was defeated,” Pneuma explained, “And only our combined efforts could restore him to his default settings. Thankfully, Alvis was able to reach out to Malos and warn him in time for us to arrive and help.”

“You’re speaking as if Alvis is a machine,” Shulk noted.

“He’s an artificial intelligence,” Malos said, “And so are we. The whole ‘siblings’ thing is because we all have the same core, figuratively speaking. Aside from that initial programming, we’re basically real, living beings.”

“And since it was the initial programming that was rewritten, what we’ll be doing is...well, it may change some things about the Alvis you knew,” Pneuma bowed her head, her hands folding together in front of her, “We don’t know how far this new program has reached into his mind. It’s possible that it overwrote key parts of his initial setup, including his memory database.”

“So to restore him back to the way he was, you basically need to rewire him,” Shulk tried his best to understand, slowly making sense of what these two strangers were telling him, “And that might mean he’ll have no memories when he wakes up.”

“Ding ding ding! This kid’s smarter than Rex,” Malos chuckled, “Here I thought we’d have to hold his hand through the whole explanation.”

Pneuma rolled her eyes. “Shulk is not a kid. Rex is far younger and has less experience. It’s wrong to judge him like that, Malos.”

“Shulk, how old are you? I wanna prove a point here.”

“Eighteen,” Shulk stammered.

Malos smirked. “Barely an adult, then.”

“I don’t think that’s any reason to smile,” Pneuma sighed, “You and Rex, you’re both young. You still have full lives to lead…”

“Wait a minute,” Shulk exclaimed, “What’s going to happen to Bionis and Mechonis now? If Zanza’s dead and Alvis is gone, then...then the Bionis -”

“Oh, right, your Titans,” Malos said slowly, “Well, Pneuma? Don’t see any reason not to lend a hand.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s in our power to restore everything to the way it was,” Pneuma said, “Rest assured, you and your friends will return to your world safe and sound. It will not be the world you’re used to. Your Titans...they’re dead. But they haven’t been fully destroyed. You can still rebuild what you once had, and create a new life for yourselves. A world without gods.”

“And when will I see Alvis again?”

Pneuma was quiet. Malos cocked an eyebrow at her, suspicious, while Shulk was doing his best to stand tall. However, it was becoming harder and harder to hide just how much his knees were shaking, threatening to buckle under the weight of all he’d been told. The world he loved was gone, but at what cost? Zanza had been defeated, he’d no longer control their fates or the land they walked upon. Was Alvis the price he had to pay for that control? 

He turned to look at the floating red crystal behind him, the only remaining piece of Alvis left in this strange dimension. It must’ve sparked something, because it began to float slowly towards Shulk, hovering at chest level. He glanced towards Pneuma and Malos, who were both staring, waiting for his response. When he gave none, Pneuma spoke up.

“It’s too much to explain now, but that crystal harbors Alvis’s essence. It’s his core. He’s recovering in there, and once he comes to full strength, he’ll return to you. I ah...I actually had to go through this too, so I know he’s not dead. Just healing.”

“Because you’re...rewriting him,” Shulk pieced more things together, his hands fluttering near the core. His fingertips brushed the cool crystalline surface, as gentle as a kiss, but he didn’t commit to taking it fully in his grasp yet. If he was too harsh, too strong, he feared the crystal would shatter.

“Basically,” Malos confirmed, “And we don’t really know how long that’ll take. Klaus - Zanza - did more of a number on him than I realized when I first talked with him. But hey, I’m fucking dead, so I can dedicate a good chunk o’ time getting him fixed up.”

“You’re dead?!”  
“Long story. Thank Miss Minty Fresh over here.”

Pneuma didn’t meet Malos’s gaze, looking down at her spiked shoes as her bangs hid her eyes. Malos chuckled at her sheepishness. “We should talk about that later too, huh? For now, let’s fix things here.”

“R-Right.”

Pneuma composed herself, straightening her spine. “I know this wasn’t much, Shulk, but just know this: everything is going to be okay. Your determination and resolve will make this new world just as beautiful as the last. And Alvis will return one day. We can’t tell you when, but he will. That much, we can both promise.”

“Yeah. We need ourselves a family reunion, after all,” Malos folded his arms over his chest, blocking his crystal, “We can all bond over near-death and death experiences.”

“Malos.”

“What? I bet it’d be a good conversation starter, you can’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious how he got to this state -”

“ _ Malos _ .”

“Fine, fine, shutting up, I get the hint.”

Shulk opened his mouth, but he held back most of his questions and opted for silent confusion. This whole thing was going way over his head. All he wanted to do now was make sure his friends were okay, and asking too many questions would delay their reunion. 

“Well, it was wonderful meeting you, Shulk,” Pneuma grinned, “Now we’ll send you back to your world to be with your friends and family. Thank you for being there for him.”

“Yeah, bet he appreciated having you while it lasted,” Malos agreed, “Now run along, try not to aggravate any big monkeys out there, okay?”

Shulk giggled at that. “I’ll try.”

And the world went bright and blinding again, obscuring Pneuma and Malos from view, even erasing his newly formed Monado from his vision. All he could see was the vibrant red of the cross-shaped crystal, Alvis’s core.

~

  
  


When the light diminished, Shulk felt grass underneath his left hand. His right hand was clenched, surrounding something small and cold. He sat himself up before unfurling his fingers, peering at what he held. Alvis’s crystal - his core. It flickered between a dead gray and a lively ruby, dancing between life and death, finicky about which side to commit to. 

He looked up, the bright sky compelling him to observe this new location. It was a familiar sight, the Bionis head, though partially submerged in the deep ocean, it now seemed a shell of its former self. There was no god to control it, no higher entity to command its form. Perhaps it was truly a shell, an empty husk that would once again pave the way for new life to blossom. Shulk inhaled deeply, the air salty yet oddly sweet with prospects of new beginnings.

“Augggghhhh…”

Shulk spun and found Reyn stretching his arms outwards sitting a couple feet away. “Reyn!”

“Oi, Shulk, what the hell happened back there?” His best friend asked, scratching the back of his head, “I remember somethin’ about Alvis lookin’ rough, then this big white light...we’re not dead, are we Shulk?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Shulk affirmed, “I mean, I feel pretty alive right now.”

“I think we’d know if we were dead,” Fiora’s voice came from behind, and she ended up standing just to Shulk’s left looking over the new horizon. “The Bionis, though…”

“Oh yeah, definitely dead.” Reyn nodded, “Probably for the best now, innit? We don’ have ta be scared of it movin’ around anymore.”

“Mm.”

Shulk gazed back down at the core in his hand. It had finally decided upon a new natural state: cracked, dead, gray. Where there had been brief flickers of warmth before, now it felt cold and lifeless in his hands. It scared him, even though the explanation was fresh in his mind. Alvis wasn’t dead. Alvis wasn’t dead. He was just healing. He needed time.

“Oi, what’s that?” Reyn looked over Shulk’s shoulder, peering down at the core. “That...that ain’t Alvis’s choker, is it? Why’s it all gray now?”

“Yeah, I remember Alvis wearing that,” Fiora noted, “Actually, where is he? Did he...did he die back there?”

Shulk looked behind him, harboring an unspoken and disproven hope that the seer would be alive and well. Melia was groaning, sitting herself up and shaking her head. Riki was bouncing around and noticed Dunban on the ground before Shulk did, resorting to checking to make sure he was okay. He soon flagged down Sharla, who quickly came to his aid and helped sit him up as he tried to shake off the residual fatigue from the fight. All his friends, shaken from the encounter but otherwise safe. Shulk started coming to terms with just how exhausted his own body felt, how heavy his muscles were. He should’ve been happy they escaped, he should’ve been happy they won. And yet...

The core in his hand flickered one more time, one last push. It was if Alvis was trying to reassure Shulk, trying to encourage him to believe. Malos and Pneuma had no reason to lie about their brother or the new state of the world. He grinned to himself, a sad but hopeful turn of the lips, before answering Fiora’s question.

“He’s not dead,” Shulk promised, “It’s going to be hard explaining what happened, but I know one thing for sure. Alvis is going to be okay. He’s just resting right now.”

Fiora looked to Reyn, and Reyn looked to Fiora. She ended up sighing. “You’re gonna have to tell us at one point, then. That whole thing was confusing beyond belief.”

“Yeah, Alvis was talkin’ as if he were a machine,” Reyn said, “It was creepy as hell. But I’m not too pressed about the details, I’m just happy we’re home - or at least, we’re not in that weird space dimension anymore.”

“Right,” Shulk agreed, staring out into the open expanse of ocean and crumbled Bionis. It wasn’t much, but Reyn was right. It was their home. Shulk made a promise to himself in that moment that he would do whatever it took to see their world restored to its former glory. A world without gods, but a world with friends by his side. He couldn’t ask for more.

And one day, when Alvis had the strength to return, Shulk would welcome him to this world with open arms.


End file.
